


bodies, possessed by light

by starwarringavengers



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21694858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarringavengers/pseuds/starwarringavengers
Summary: Rey can't sleep, because every time she closes her eyes, she seeshim.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	bodies, possessed by light

Rey has never really slept soundly.

Not when she lived in a broken down AT-AT in the middle of an unforgiving desert; nor in a lumpy cot in the back of the Falcon; and especially not on Ahch-To, in those forsaken huts where the manifestation of her every fear and desire and all that’s light and dark inside of her kept appearing before her eyes. She can’t sleep not, either - mostly because Finn and Poe’s snoring in the bunks above and beside her, respectively - but more because every time she closes her eyes, she can’t make her mind go blank. She can’t find sleep.

She can’t sleep because every time she closes her eyes, she keeps seeing things that aren’t there. She sees the smooth, black floors of the Finalizer. She sees the flash of a blaster. A red lightsaber blade. She sees black sheets. She sees the white walls of a ‘fresher. Worst of all, Rey sees herself. She sees her own eyes. Her own body, her own hands. And when it’s not herself that she sees, she sees _him._ Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, _whoever_ he is in her mind today. She sees his dark eyes and dark hair and the faint pink scar that bisects his face. She sees his body. She sees his hands - on her. It’s as if her dreams are less dreams and more snippets of memory.

Rey tosses herself over on her stomach, the scratchy sheets a sensory grounding that she doesn’t really want. She would rather float - wander, drift - _sleep, anything._ Rey stuffs her face into her pillow and shuts her eyes, only to be met with an onslaught of images of the same black bed she keeps seeing, with black sheets and soft pillows and a mass of a man lying on it, eyes closed, arm tucked under his head. Rey groans in annoyance and reopens her eyes, only to find that she can’t seem to come back to the room on the Resistance base.

No, her eyes are open, and somehow here she is, standing beside the bed where Ben Solo sleeps.

She huffs.

He stirs.

The connection severs.

Rey opens her eyes into her pillow and moves to sit up, slamming her head into the bottom of Finn’s bunk. Annoyance floods her as she swings her legs over the bed and stands, angrily stalking out of the room. There are very few of them now, and the halls of the old Resistance base are quiet. Rey knows all about finding spots where she can be quiet in peace, where no one will bother her. What she didn’t count on was that Poe Dameron and Finn, together, are expert investigators, and they’ve found all of her spots with laughable ease. But she thinks maybe she’s found a good one this time around.

There’s a roof. And if they were being attacked, it would _not_ be a good place to be, but she figures that for now, when they’re thankfully not being attacked, it’s nice to be outside. Sometimes she can nap up here because she doesn’t have to listen to the snoring. With a sigh Rey yanks a threadbare blanket from its hiding spot where she’d stashed it a few weeks ago and sits, leaning back against the base of a satellite. Her eyes slip closed, and things go black as she feels her body calm, a genuine sense of peace rolling through her as she realizes _yes, I can sleep._

But there are things she can’t escape even in dreams. Rey has always had vivid dreams, perhaps due to her power with the Force, but she knows the moment she slips into it that this is not her own dream. This is _definitely_ not her dream, and it _is_ a dream, but she can feel it all. She can feel his dark hair under her hands, fingers tangling in the curls. She can feel the weight of him as he lies between her legs, his mouth against the soft skin of her inner thigh and fingers wrapped tightly around her hip. Rey thinks momentarily that she wants to scream, wake herself up from this and possibly just never sleep again, but then she realizes that she actually _wants_ to know what happens next. _Wants_ to imagine just how soft his lips will feel against her when they finally reach where she’s wet and aching and _wants_ to know exactly how hard he’ll flick his tongue against her and _exactly_ how long it might take for her to fall into that state of bliss that she keeps chasing with her own hands.

She resolves that in sleep, it can’t hurt to let her herself slide into this temptation, right?

Ben, _he has to be Ben in this dream,_ slides his hands up her body and presses her hips down, a soft whisper of her name that floats in the air like gossamer silk in the wind. It sends a delicious little shiver up her spine, a tingling feeling that reaches the tips of her fingers and toes and turns into an eruption when his lips find her cunt. It’s wicked and delicious and Rey feels like crying as she swivels her hips closer to his mouth, a rippling feeling of desperation surging through her.

Rey chances to open her eyes and look down at him as he lies between her legs, an expanse of pale skin dotted with scars and freckles tucked between her tan, skinny limbs. He drinks her in like he’s dying of thirst, stealing her breath with every warm flick of his tongue against her, inside her, around that little bundle of nerves that makes her toes curl against his back.

Ben is everywhere all at once, his hands down her thighs and up to her breasts and their fingers tangling together as Rey throws her head back on the bed, arching towards him.

“Ben,” she gasps, chokes on his name as he pulls her closer and closer to a ledge, lips closed around her.

“That’s it, Rey,” he murmurs against her skin, mouth right back to taking all that she’ll give him, and he’s groaning as she tangles her hands once more in his hair and tugs, the sound sending a shimmer through the Force right to her core.

She’s so close - _so, so close -_

The dream ends.

It falls away, her surroundings turning cold and the glimmer of warmth from her dream, gone as if it were never there in the first place. Only the faint hum of the Force, of a connection, remains.

As Rey sits up and tries to catch her breath, a few thousand light-years away, Ben Solo is staring out into a black expanse of space, swearing that he tastes Rey on his tongue.


End file.
